Death
by MythicWolf04
Summary: A terrible machine corrupts and converts skin and bone, leaving the host to his final thoughts.


Fox grunted, looking down at the mess of his stomach. His hand was stained red, his torso and odd purple color that seemed to shine in the low fluorescent light of the office building, and he coughed, spitting blood all over his muzzle. He was going to die, and there wasn't much he could do about it.

He didn't want to die, but oddly enough, Fox wasn't scared about it. It felt… strangely calming. He could feel the aparoids inside him, changing everything to machine, but it was peaceful.

Fox coughed again, grimacing. He couldn't feel the pain anymore, but that was okay.

The color of his blood mixed with his fur and made a mural of gore. He looked at it curiously, feeling the machines crawl to his legs. As the nanobots converted his very bones to metal, he thought on his past, on his friends and how he fell like this.

Fox smiled softly, looking back up at the ceiling, to the hole in the roof where he had fallen off of the Wolfen. It really hadn't been a good idea to get shot in the chest by an aparoid. He knew his team would be freaking out, and maybe they were shouting on comm… but his ears were numb.

Looking at the lights shining harshly and indifferently down on him, he thought of Peppy. That crazy old hare was the closest he had to a father, and he was going damn senile in his old age. Fox would've barked a laugh if his vocal cords were still functional. Peppy made things easier to bear with his experience and his dry humor, able to lighten even the darkest moments, always there to bring Fox back from the brink if he ever strayed too far into his own thoughts.

Well, he was alone with nothing but them now.

Fox looked down at his feet, and he swore he saw bright, tranluscent crystals jutting out from them in different rigid patterns. It was gorgeous.

Fox remembered Krystal, although his mind was becoming weaker by the moment. She always knew what to say and how to comfort him when he needed her, and he really needed his big sister right now. He needed her to tell him that everything would be okay, and that he wasn't out of his mind for not being scared to die. She was like an angel, perfect in every way, and Fox knew there was no better sister in the entire galaxy.

Fox whispered slightly, finding a semblance of his voice. He wished his team could be with him at the end, but he was alone.

Slippy would always find a way to solve a problem. He could surely fix whatever was happening to Fox's body, but it was probably too late. Slippy always knew what to do, and Fox would lean on him when things got too complicated. He made sure Fox didn't lose his mind over planning and strategizing, and kept him calm and level headed. He couldn't ask for a better anchor.

The blood pooled around Fox's thighs, and some of it was a shimmering rainbow, not unlike spilled oil shining in a bright light. His arms hung limply at his side, hands clenched into fists from pain he couldn't even begin to fathom and register. Fox blinked slowly, raising his eyes to look at the cloudless blue sky far, far above him.

A sky as blue as the feathers of Falco.

Falco was the best wingman and best friend Fox could ever need, possibly even much more. He could read Fox's every thought even better than Krystal could, and they were each other's body to lean on. Together since kindergarten, two sides of the same coin, brothers, best friends. Fox needed a shoulder to weep on, to scream into, and his feathered friend could not have been farther away than he was right now.

Fox needed someone to hold on to, and every possible anchor was unreachable. Slowly, deliberately, he reached his hand out and raised his arm to the ceiling, silently pleading for help. He could feel the machines in his arms now, and he couldn't bear to look back at his lower body.

Fox did his best to smile, thinking about Wolf. Yes, they were rivals, but they tested and broke each other's limits, trying to push one another to greatness and beyond. Maybe, in another lifetime, they could've been friends. They certainly were down that road in this one. He just wished he could see that stupid face one more time.

Fox closed his eyes, finding the prospect of holding them open too arduous. It wouldn't be too long until he slipped into the void now.

"I'll… see you soon, dad," a foreign voice croaked out, something robotic, almost alien.

Fox remembered his dad's warm smile and bright eyes, and he knew he was going to see them in a few moments. As exciting as that was, he was starting to become scared. Fox was about to die.

He wanted to scream and cry, but he couldn't. Fox could feel the aparoids quite literally in his head and heart, stopping the flow of blood. He wasn't breathing anymore.

Fox opened his eyes one last time, and took one lasting look at the sky. His home.

And then it was gone. 


End file.
